


Raindrops

by RoyalNebula



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Austria plays the piano (of course), Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Music, Prussia plays the flute, Storms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 14:39:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9239327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoyalNebula/pseuds/RoyalNebula
Summary: A storm is raging across Austria and Roderich, once again, is holed up in the dusty attic music room in order to alleviate his fear. However, Gilbert knows that his attempt, like always, is going to end up with him hurting both his hands and his pride. There must be something that he can do to help him get through a storm once and for all.





	

The sky rumbled as the rain came lashing down, the clouds a canvas of grey, blue and purple. The world outside looked similar to a scene from a post-apocalyptic movie, the ground and plants struggling not to drown in the torrent that cascading down upon them. It seemed never ending. Powerful. Destructive. Awe-inspiring.

Then it came. Lightning that struck the ground with a seemingly otherworldly force. The sky burned bright, each colour within the dreary clouds suddenly becoming thrice as vivid, making it seem almost alive. Stark white light from the bolt forced itself into the house, both illuminating and casting shadows in places that it could not quite reach.

And then it was gone. Just as soon as it had graced the world with its presence, it vanished.

Sure enough, about half a minute later, the house trembled as the thunder clapped, echoing through each corridor and hallway with a deafening boom. The nation's fingers faltered over the keys, an unexpected pause in the piece. He began again. He was determined to complete the piece while the hurricane continued - he had to prove to himself that he was not afraid. However, it was getting harder and harder to provide a convincing argument.

As he heard the beginning of Chopin's _Raindrops_ for the umpteenth that evening, Gilbert sighed. Roderich did the same thing every time there was a storm - he would go into the music room in the attic that was otherwise untouched, sit down at the neglected piano and try to play one of the many pieces he knew off by heart all the way through before the storm passed. And each time, he failed. The storm would go away and the Prussian would hear him slam his hands on the keys before locking himself in his bedroom until the following day.

However, this particular storm had been ravaging the land for a few hours and Gilbert was starting to worry that his friend would hurt himself if he was not careful. He sighed again before slowly making his way up the creaking spiral staircase that led to the attic, grimacing whenever he encountered a spider's web. The piano in the attic was only ever used during storms and so the corridors leading up to it were always filled with dirt and spiders.

There was another flash of lightning and Gilbert scowled as it illuminated the hallway, revealing the dust merrily dancing in the air. He despised how filthy the attic was, but he never got around to having it cleaned, not that he particularly wanted to do the job himself anyway. It was a task that he would much rather delegate to another to carry out.

Roderich frowned as he heard the footsteps of the white-haired nation approaching the music room. The Prussian had never once before come up into the attic during one of his storm episodes. He knew that Gilbert had heard them before, but he had never mentioned it previously.

The door to the music room opened and Gilbert stepped inside quietly. Roderich, meanwhile, carried on playing, determined to finish the piece. Even when the other sat down on the piano stool next to him, he continued to play.

Suddenly, there was an almighty crash and the Austrian froze, hands hovering just above the next notes. Gilbert noticed immediately and took the aristocrat's hands in his own, turning Roderich to face him. They sat like that for a few minutes as the storm waged its war outside, violet staring deep into crimson. Neither of the two moved until another bolt of lightning flashed and Roderich tensed, his breath catching.

Gilbert smiled reassuringly before twisting himself and the Austrian back around to face the piano and placing the other's hands over the starting notes of the piece he insisted on playing. A moment later, Roderich began to play again, the piece singing slightly more smoothly out of the piano than it had previously. However, when another particularly large clap of thunder boomed, he halted yet again. Roderich sighed impatiently - he was getting nowhere and was only succeeding in getting frustrated.

After a few more fruitless attempts, Gilbert rose from the piano stool, grinning widely as an idea formed in his mind. The Austrian looked around in confusion, but still neither nation uttered a word. Gilbert walked over to the corner of the room, a corner which Roderich had assumed to be empty. Yet he was wrong, as Gilbert drew his old flute out from underneath the floorboards. He gave it a quick once over before bringing the mouthpiece to his lips to ensure that it was still working. A few stray notes came out, and Roderich smiled. It had been an extremely long time since he had heard Gilbert play.

The two nations looked at each other while wondering what thoughts were running through the other's head. Then, Roderich began to play and Gilbert swiftly joined in, the two instruments combining harmoniously to produce a wonderful sound. Despite contrasting with the storm blowing outside, it was so consuming that Roderich was no longer paying attention to the flashes and booms coming from outside.

Neither of the two were playing to prove a point anymore. Instead, they were playing because it brought back fond old memories of the pair playing together a long time ago, in much happier, more innocent times. They had not played together in almost a century and the brown-haired nation knew that he could not falter, lest he lose the precious moment to the elements battling outside the window.

As the piece drew to a close, Gilbert noticed that Roderich had stopped flinching at the thunder and lightning and his face lit up with joy as he played the final note. It made his day to see the other nation so calm and serene; it was an exceptionally rare sight.

Once the last note had finished ringing, Roderich stood up and walked over to Gilbert, who had taken his flute away from his mouth and was simply holding it by his side.

"Danke," he whispered gently, before placing a chaste kiss on the Prussian's cheek. "Ich liebe dich."


End file.
